Breakfast
by Simon920
Summary: The morning after 'My Word'. Dick and Roy deal with Bruce. This is number 2 in the My Word series. Note: THIS IS A SLASH STORY. IF THIS ISN'T TO YOU'RE LIKING, MOVE ALONG, PLEASE. You've been warned.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Here there be slash. If you don't like, don't read, matey's!**

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Breakfast **

The two young men finally made their way down for breakfast more than an hour and a half after Alfred had inadvertently witnessed the full dimension of their friendship. It was going for ten when they walked into the kitchen looking for food, sitting down at the kitchen table at Alfred's insistence. If had hadn't actually seen what he had, he'd have no idea their relationship had become, well, become what it now plainly seemed to be. They were, and had been, nothing if not the souls of discretion. They displayed no particular shows of affection, exchanged no meaningful looks or touches and said absolutely nothing to indicate that they were, in fact, deeply involved with one another.

"But you're in the middle of things, Alf—we can go out or something."

One look was enough to stop any protests. "Bacon and eggs?"

"Cheese omelets?" Dick always did like them, and Alfred had noticed he seemed to request them after a particularly busy night, though generally the night in question would involve making arrests or perhaps going off world. Of course, the activity of last night would have worked up an appetite in anyone.

"Have you plans for the day or will you be catching up on your rest?" Alfred was getting out the cheese and the grater, starting the bacon cooking and cracking eggs. The boys exchanged a look.

"Nothing specific, just hang out." Dick got up and poured two glasses of the fresh squeezed orange juice, handing Roy one, downing his own and refilling it. "Maybe watch a movie or something."

"I shall be away seeing the new Wyeth exhibit over at the Museum and then expect to be occupied with some errands. Should I expect you for dinner, Master Dick and will be you be joining us, Master Roy?" He placed the full plates in front of the boys.

They exchanged a glance. "We're not sure yet, Alf, we'll let you know but don't worry about it. Is it okay if Roy stays again? Ollie is God knows where for the long weekend."

He nodded, taking his coat from the closet, slipping his arms into the sleeves. "I see no problem with that, Master Dick, just keep me informed about your plans, if you will. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be leaving if I'm to meet Dr. Thompkins on time. Please put your dishes in the washer when you're finished."

As soon as the door closed behind him the two young men looked at each other. Dick saying what they were both thinking. "He knows."

Roy nodded. "But he didn't really say anything. Is that because I'm sitting here or is he going to wait and just tell Bruce and let him deal with it?"

Dick just shrugged. "It could go either way; I'm wondering how he found out—you _did_ mess up your bed, right?"

"Hell, yes. It looks like it's Atlanta and Sherman marched through it." He picked up a piece of bacon. "You don't think he heard something, do you? I mean, that is an intercom system on the wall, right?"

Just then the washing machine in the adjacent laundry room made gear sifting and water splashing noises as it went through its cycle. "Holy crap—it's Saturday; he always does laundry Saturday morning. He must have come in early to empty the hamper."

Roy stared at him. "No…." This was a nightmare; it didn't matter how early Alf had gone laundry hunting, he and Dick had spent the night together then started up again at dawn and kept going for almost two hours straight…well, okay, not exactly a _straight_ two hours, he'd grant. If he'd come in anytime from about six to eight or eight-thirty he'd have gotten an eyeful and even if he'd missed the main event, they were still in the same bed, naked and wrapped around each other. It wasn't what you'd call subtle. "We're fucked."

Dick gave him a look. "That was almost two hours ago."

"Very funny, smart ass. If he says anything to Bruce and it gets back to Ollie…"

"And what if it does?" Dick was finished with his food and was putting his dishes in the machine. "What's he going to do? For that matter, what would either of them do? Sure, they may not like it, but what's the real problem here? We're discrete, we don't flaunt anything, no one knows—even the other Titans don't know and beyond that, it's no ones business."

"Slow down, junior, you're missing a couple of puzzle pieces here." Dick raised an eyebrow. "For starters, Ollie isn't what anyone would call open minded about what he politely refers to as 'fucking fags' and for another, he's not all that high on anyone who's associated with the Bat. Beyond that…" He stood up with some obvious discomfort, Dick looking a question at him. "My ass is sore, thank you very much."

Dick laughed, "But it was worth it, wasn't it?"

"Well, okay, yeah." Roy was smiling, too—last night had been pretty damn good. "But seriously, we have to deal with this."

"Roy, it's a non-starter. Alfred won't have a problem with it and he'll probably break it to Bruce—and you know as well as I do that no one can deal with Bruce as well as Alf can. As for Ollie, well, if it comes to it you can just move in here."

Roy wasn't sure whether to laugh out loud or be appalled by this suggestion. Him living with the Bat? Okay, sure, Dick would be in the next room—or, better yet, on the next pillow—but Bat for breakfast every morning? And, Christ, he'd seen the workouts Dick went through at least five days a week and they were killers. "But Richard", it always made Dick insane when Roy called him this, which he only did in moments of extreme annoyance "Do you actually expect me to believe that there will be no fallout from this? This is no big deal and we're all going to be one big Brady Bat family?"

"There may be a small adjustment period, I'll grant, but we'll get through it." Dick gestured toward Roy's plate, now empty. Roy handed it over so Dick could put it away.

"C'mon Dick, I'm serious. Even aside from anything else, you know Bruce hates me after the drugs. He may be willing to accept you liking guys, but he's never going to buy you and me being together…and Ollie will blow a gasket."

Dick closed the dishwasher and turned back. "He'll accept you because he has no choice. I want to be with you and if he wants me to stay around and be Robin to his Batman, he'll accept you. Period. And we'll deal with Ollie." He said it with such surety and finality that Roy didn't think to say he might be wrong.

"So, we're outted?"

"Could be, at least among friends, anyway." He paused for a moment, as if considering how to phrase what he wanted to say next. "Look, I don't want to just be known as 'The Gay Hero', y'know? I just don't need that kind of baggage, at least not right now. Are you okay with that?" He ran his hand through his hair. "I mean, let's keep it on a 'need to know' basis."

Roy considered what Dick had just said and what he meant by it; what it meant to them both. "…Yeah, well, I didn't want to deal with being 'The Junkie Hero', either so I guess that's cool."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He stopped for a moment, uncharacteristically quiet. "Are you sure you still want to do this?"

Dick looked at him, a little wary. "Do what? Us?"

Roy nodded. "It would be a lot easier if we…"

"Pretend nothing's happened? Just be 'friends'?" He took a breath, a pause. "Is that what you want?" He was afraid of the answer, Roy knew it and both hated and loved the fact that he was important enough to Dick to scare him like this.

"God, no, but this is going to be a fucking mess. Once Bruce and Ollie find out—and then it'll be all over the Titans and the JLA. You know as well as I do that it's just a matter of time before the press gets a hold of the story…I mean, Christ, you really want to deal with that?" He held up his hand to stop Dick interrupting. "You know it'll get out—this is too good a scandal to bury and then we'll have the whole thing on our heads. Christ—we won't be able to take a free breath once the paparazzi start up."

"It'll be something we'll deal with and then it will blow over as soon as the next story comes along." Roy just shook his head. "Look, it was inevitable someone would find out sooner or later, right? We both knew that all along and the longer we're together the more likely it became; all right, the suspense is over so now we'll do what we have to." Dick moved over to Roy and put his hand on his cheek in a small reassuring stroke then leaned in, kissing him. "It'll be okay. I promise." Roy shook his head slightly again and this wasn't like him, he was always so up about everything. "Hey, I told you a year ago; I love you. Nothing's changed. I love you and we're together, okay?"

This time Roy gave a small nod but still didn't seem convinced.

Alfred arrived back at the Manor about four that afternoon. The house was completely silent and the note on the kitchen counter told him the boys had gone into town to rent some movies and would be back in a little while. Good. That gave him some breathing room to really think through what he wanted to say to the lads. Certainly he had no problem with their having a relationship beyond simple friendship, but they were both still so young and so much in the public eye. In addition to that, they each had difficult men as guardians who would need to be informed and soon.

He started getting out the ingredients for the lasagna he would be making for dinner, going through the familiar routine calmed him and made it easier for him to think.

It had been almost ten years since Dick had come to live with them and in all that time it simply never occurred to him that the boy might be interested in another young man. Yes, it was true that he'd never dated much—male or female—but that could be easily marked down to his incredibly full schedule or him simply being a late starter as so many youngsters were. He'd never really said anything about anyone to indicate he was attracted to them, other than Miss Barbara, of course. Alfred had assumed that to be a case of puppy love destined to fade away as he grew up and met someone closer to his own age and temperament.

And the two young men had certainly been circumspect. Alfred hadn't the slightest indication they felt anything towards one another than a close, platonic friendship. How long had this been going on? Weeks? Months? It couldn't have been in existence for years, could it? Both lads were seventeen, of legal age, but when had this started and how had they kept is so secret? Well, clearly they would know he was on to them and might be willing to explain how this had all come about. Was he prying? Yes he was, but he knew they would understand it was out of concern—dear Lord! The possible dangers they could be exposing themselves to. Any number of diseases, public scandal, possible black listing, notoriety, censure, prejudice, bigotry and flat out hatred would be thrown at them and though they may be used to dealing with the public side of their lives, this would be beyond anything they'd experienced. They must be prepared for what could come. Another thought occurred to him as he was browning the ground beef; the Teen Titans were looked up to as role models for youngsters the world over. If it became known that the romantic connection between the members consisted of Robin and Speedy instead of Wonder Girl and any one of the young men…they would be pummeled.

This could overshadow all the good works the youngsters had accomplished over the years. It might well all be wiped out in a flood of mockery and gossip.

He would speak with them when they got back from their trip to town. In all likelihood they had already considered all of this but the perspective of a teenager was different than that of an adult and that was a simple fact.

The boys got back about five and went straight to the entertainment room to watch the first of a hand full of films they'd brought back. By six forty-five the lasagna was almost ready and Dick was called into the kitchen.

"Master Bruce called a short while ago. It seems his business went faster than he'd anticipated and he expected to land by seven this evening, so with any luck he'll be walking in shortly. I thought it would be polite to wait for him, if you lads aren't too hungry to wait a bit."

Dick looked slightly apprehensive, but only someone who knew him well would have possibly noticed. "Sure, no problem, Alf." He hesitated, "Did you want to talk to me about anything?"

"Regarding?"

Dick spoke a little too quickly. "C'mon, Alfred. I know you were in my room this morning."

He folded the kitchen towel he was holding and placed in on the counter. "I admit to being surprised but I'm not one to pass judgment when it's apparent that what I'm seeing is bringing happiness and harms no one."

Dick gave him a steady look. "But…?"

"But surely you're both aware of the possible disaster were this to become public. Should two Titans be known to be as close as you two are, your work would be compromised—no, hear me out. You know this is true just as you know that you would be facing all sorts of unpleasant speculation and publicity and if Dick Grayson and Roy Harper were known to be close; not only your private lives but also those of Master Bruce and Master Queen would be affected. The fact you've kept this information to yourselves tells me you know this."

"Of course we do, but it's no one's business and…"

"It may not be, but when you chose to live your life on an open stage, you also chose the criticism which goes along with that choice. You've lived in the public eye more than long enough to know what the consequences may be."

Dick leaned his elbows on the granite counter. "But it's such bullshit. It's my life and…"

"Indeed it is, but it's equally true that you and Master Roy are not average by any measure and the standards you're held to are difficult both to attain and maintain. You've known this as long as I've known you."

"It's my life—our lives—and it's not fair."

Alfred smiled at the petulance. "That doesn't even deserve an answer as you passed that level of naivety years ago." He got out the dinner plates, handing them to Dick to start setting the table. "You also know the Master must be informed. Would you prefer I do it or would you like to?" Dick looked like he'd rather face a gallows. "I believe I can inform him in such a way he will be receptive and understanding. Now, if you would let Master Roy know that we'll be eating as soon as the master arrives, I would appreciate it."

"Tell him after dinner, okay?"

"The condemned deserve a last meal?" Alfred smiled as he said it; well, he almost smiled, anyway. Dick gave him a look, placed the last silverware on the table and went to talk to Roy before Alfred called him back. "It goes without saying that you know you have my full support. However, I do have several questions I would appreciate your clearing up for me."

Dick looked apprehensive, but nodded. "You want to know how long and when and how and all of that, right?"

"Partly, yes, but more to the point, I would like to know why you felt the need to keep this such a secret. I understand about you wishing to preserve your privacy and I've no desire to violate that, but you must realize the awkward position we're now in." It was said kindly and Dick knew he just wanted some basic answers.

Dick sighed, stalling for a few seconds to phrase what he was going to say then started. "It's been going on between me and Roy for about a year now, maybe a little longer and I think it surprised me even more than it did him. We're friends, y'know? Nothing more, but close friends and then last year…we were in the Tower talking, the others had left and somehow we ended up having a real conversation. It was late and we were tired and we had some beer…you know how it happens sometimes." He glanced up at Alfred, making sure it was okay since he knew Alfred didn't approve of underage drinking other than the very occasional glass of good wine on a special occasion. "Anyway, it was pretty much the first time I think I've ever said what I really thought without censoring myself, talked about how I really felt about things with someone who might understand. The two of us went through two six packs, but that wasn't why. We just kept talking, telling each other all kinds of things we'd never told anyone, stuff about our parents, how we felt about being in the Titans, Bruce, Ollie, school, all kinds of stuff. God, it was great to be able to do that without worrying about someone telling you you're wrong or who don't understand or say you'll grow out of it or something." He looked up at Alfred again. "Does that make sense?" Alfred nodded; yes, it made perfect sense. "Around dawn we were both tired and no one else was in the tower. I said I was going to bed and he just came with me. It was strange, but it seemed natural that after sharing all those things we'd never told anyone else. He followed me—I thought he was going to his own room but he followed me inside of mine, got in my bed and we slept together." He paused a moment to see Alfred's reaction, but there was none, just a kind of curiosity. "Nothing happened that night, we just slept, but we got in the habit whenever we were there alone and then it just kind of, you know, it kind of developed…"

"I see."

"And you're okay with it?" It wasn't a challenge; it was a real question wanting an honest answer. Was it just taking comfort with an old friend or did the boys actually have romantic feelings for one another?

"Of course, so long as it makes you both happy and neither of you gets hurt."

Dick looked closely at Alfred's face, neutral as always. "You think we'll get hurt?"

Alfred turned the oven temperature down a bit, straightened, "I think that at seventeen you both have many changes and a good bit of growing up yet to accomplish and there's no promise that your paths will continue to run parallel as that occurs. You must be prepared for that eventuality."

"You think this is some kind of a fling or experiment and we'll 'grow up' and meet a couple of nice girls to settle down with?"

Alfred shook his head slightly. "Perhaps, perhaps not. I'm not a fortuneteller, Master Dick. I'm merely stating the obvious." They saw car lights coming up the drive, turning to make the turn into the garage. Bruce was home. "I suggest you get Master Roy and inform him we shall be eating in fifteen minutes. I'm confident the master would appreciate a peaceful meal this evening, if you don't mind."

"So, anything happen while I was away?" They were half way through dinner and Bruce was playing the convivial host. They'd been through the 'Roy, good to see you' and 'How's Ollie treating you?' routine and now he was moving on to Dick and the last few days. The conversation was general and benign but Dick knew Bruce was watching, something—Alfred? His own instincts?—had made him suspicious and that there would be a real Q&A later. "Did you see Lantern captured Poison Ivy Saturday? That's new territory for him."

"I heard." Dick was playing with his lasagna, making designs in the tomato sauce.

"I was wondering why Hal had to step up—where were you?"

Ah, the dropping shoe. "Nowhere, I just didn't hear she was out again, that's all."

Bruce gave him a sharp look, a Bat look. "Why not?"

Because he and Roy had spent the entire evening and a good part of the night in bed, on the floor, in the pool, the shower, the garden, the Jacuzzi…that's why. "I just didn't."

"Roy, were you staying over on Saturday? I'd have thought Ollie might have called you about this if he knew you were with Dick."

Roy exchanged a quick glance with Dick; they both knew they were busted but were going to play this out. Hey, they could get lucky, right? "I think Ollie was somewhere with Dinah this weekend. I haven't heard from him in a few days."

Bruce digested this, nodding slightly. "Dick, I'd like a word. Roy, you'll excuse us?" Another glance between the boys and Roy left the room. "Now, what's going on? The truth."

"There's nothing going on. Roy and I spent the weekend together and I didn't check the computer, that's all. We took a weekend off—it's not like I make a habit out of it; Hal had it covered."

"Gotham isn't Hal's problem."

"C'mon, Bruce, we just took a couple of days off. It's not that big a deal." Yes it was and he knew it. He also knew Bruce was furious and would think of something to make sure Dick knew just how disappointed he was.

Bruce took a sip of his wine and Dick realized he was stalling for time to collect his thoughts—and that wasn't good. Finally, "Unless I miss my guess, I take it that you and Roy are more than friends."

It was a statement, not a question and Dick didn't know how he'd figured it out. He hadn't had time to really talk to Alfred unless Alf had called him on the plane or something and he and Roy had been completely discrete from the second he'd walked in the door—and not just tonight but since they'd started as a couple. Yeah, sure, he was the Bat, but did he really know or was he just taking a shot? "Roy and I _are_ friends. We've been friends since we were twelve."

"Don't insult me. You know exactly what I'm talking about and I would appreciate an honest answer without playing games."

There was no point in trying to evade anything here. Dick knew Bruce well enough to know when he was busted and busted he was, he sagged physically and emotionally. "What do you want to know?"

"First of all, I'm not surprised that you've involved yourself with someone you've known for a long time, but Roy? I'd think that after the problems he's had you'd have the sense to find someone more stable, to say the least." He held up a hand, stopping Dick's protest. "Secondly, I want to know if you consider this a serious relationship or if it's just physical." The outraged expression on Dick's face told him all he needed to know. "I see. And what to you expect to happen with this? Do you plan to move in together or some such?"

"We've talked about it, yes."

"When you're done with school, I take it."

"That's right. Do you have a problem with that?"

Dick was on the defensive and Bruce knew he'd get nowhere, but kept on anyway, angry he hadn't been told months ago. "Several, as a matter if fact, starting with the fact that this isn't an relationship based on equality but on him being dependant on you and I would think that in and of itself would be enough to warn you off."

"And the fact that we're both male doesn't matter to you? If I was involved with Donna you wouldn't care nearly as much."

"I don't have a problem with gay or bi or whatever you may think you are. I have a problem with you involving yourself with a drug addict—and spare me the argument that he's clean. You know the statistics about backsliding as well as I do."

Dick was seeing red, even though he knew better than to think anything else could have happened. This was, after all, Bruce he was dealing with—patronizing and condescending as ever. He was about to snap back a retort, but managed to hold his tongue at the last second. "Okay look, we can argue or we can talk about this—you're choice."

"We'll discuss this later. In the meantime, what plans did you and Roy have for the rest of the evening?" He saw the look on Dick's face. "And please just answer the question without the attitude." He was about to continue when Alfred, in what was clearly no accident, walked in.

"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, but Master Dick, you are sorely neglecting your guest and Master Bruce, you have a phone call from Mr. Fox on line three." It worked; the tension, if not broken, was diverted with Bruce going to take the call and Dick going to find Roy. This would continue, no question. Nothing was solved. Dick found Roy sitting on one of the lounge chairs by the indoor pool and surrounded by the full-grown palm trees, staring at the water. He watched Dick cross over and sit on the edge of the chair, their legs touching. "Well?"

"He knows and he was starting on the 'you're both young and you don't know what you're doing, this isn't what you think it is' route when Alfred interrupted."

"To be continued later, no doubt, at which time you'll get the 'and you know he's a drug addict and you can do better' part of the speech." Roy looked out the floor to ceiling windows behind Dick. It was dark, but the outdoor lights were on and it was starting to snow a little. "I should go home—this is too weird now."

Dick put his hand on Roy's, picking it up and holding it. He looked at it intently, stared at it, studying the veins and the calluses where he's been pulling the bowstring for years. He'd always thought that was something they had in common—callused hands from hard, repetitive work perfecting what they did. The other Titans had amazing powers to develop; they were the two members who just had talent and plain hard work. "No, don't. Please stay. Bruce has to get used to this and we might as well start now."

"In the guest room?"

"In my room."

Roy gave one of his big grins, the kind which had earned him the reputation as a world-class smart-ass. "Well, what the hell; I always did want to see what it would take to rattle the Bat." He squeezed Dick's hand and turned semi-serious, "You sure about this? I mean you're the one who has to live with him."

"Yeah, well, it's sort of a payback for all those bimbos he used to bring home. I actually got pretty good at scaring them away at breakfast the next morning. They all wanted Bruce, but the idea of a ten year old was enough to make most of them go running—I used to half think that was why he kept me around."

"'Probably so." They were trying but this had turned serious now. The last year was a build up to this and they knew it. If they were going to stay together it was inevitable they'd have to come to terms with being outted to their friends and family. The shoe had dropped and they'd be dealing with it. If they were lucky it would blow over and they'd be accepted soon enough. If not they'd have to talk and make plans.

"Bruce is getting ready to go on patrol. You want to join him?"

"You're kidding, right?" Robbie couldn't be serious.

Dick broke out a smile to rival anything Roy was capable of. "C'mon, it'll be fun."

"Like diving out of a plane without a parachute, it'll be fun."

Dick stopped, maybe asking Roy to jump in here with both feet wasn't the best idea he'd ever had. "Would you rather stay here?" Roy looked at him as if he'd just asked if he wanted to keep breathing. "Okay, tell you what—I'll ask him if he wants me to go with him, and I'll see you as soon as I can."

Roy looked like he was ready to bolt and run for the door. "You sure? I mean seriously, maybe it would be better if I left." Dick had noticed for years how much the bat got under the skin of his friends. It had played hell with his social live since he'd moved into the manor.

"We have to deal with this sooner or later; we might as well get it over with so we can get on with everything." That was Dick, pragmatic as ever.

Roy gave him a wry look. "We have nothing to fear but fear itself."

"Master Dick? Master Bruce asks me to inform you that he will handle this evening's outing by himself and will see you both in the morning." Alfred left as silently as he'd come in.

"'This evening's _outing_?' Roy wasn't sure if this was a joke or not.

"Welcome to the wacky world of Bat humor."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Mufky-fufky alert.**

**Warnings: none as long as you know this is _slash. _If you don't like, don't read._  
_**

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Breakfast **

**Part Two **

The boys spent the rest of the evening quietly after Master Bruce left for his patrol. Partly they were subdued because they knew they would be dealing with Bruce in the morning, come hell or high water and partly because they had an innate need to make a strong connection with one another before the coming storm. They spent another hour or so talking by the pool and then went down to the gym to have a long, private soak in the Jacuzzi.

At one point Alfred stopped in to see if they wanted anything, bottled water, perhaps, but decided against interrupting when he glanced through the opened door to find them kissing one another, then laughter followed him down the hall. Going back to the kitchen, he nursed a cup of Earl Grey and gave the situation more thought.

Dick had always seemed to need more physical nurturing than Master Bruce ever did and Alfred thought—had thought for years—that he and the Master were as unsuited to providing that for the boy as they were of effusively congratulating him on a job well done. Clearly both of the boy's parents had been tactile people and offered the child endless hugs, kisses and arms around the shoulder and just as clearly he missed that contact desperately. Perhaps this was just a way to recapture that physical contact.

No, as soon as the thought entered his mind he dismissed it. Dick wouldn't trade his privacy and violate his time alone on something that didn't have deeper meaning to him. He simply wouldn't. This relationship was significant to him if he was willing to have it become known and to engage openly in his own home, knowing he would likely be seen. This mattered to him and equally obviously, Roy mattered to him enough for the interplay between the two to be brought into the open. This was no fly-by-night affair, nor was it something that would simply go away any time soon.

But why had he taken up with Roy? The young man might well have admirable qualities, but his many problems would seem to outweigh the positives. Well, maybe that was part of the attraction, now that the idea had entered his mind. Dick was forever sympathizing with strays; this could be an extension of that. Perhaps this had its basis in simply sympathy.

No, that was insulting to both young men. If they had genuine feelings for one another—as seemed to be the case, to trivialize those feelings would be counterproductive for all concerned. Alfred hesitated to think the youngsters might actually believe themselves to be in love, but he certainly didn't discount it, either. A teenaged romance was still a romance and it was not unknown for them to develop into a lifelong attachment.

Good Lord; the Master would have an opinion about this.

The boys were lazing on the chesterfield sofa in the media room, watching Saw—Roy's choice. "Really, Grayson, you need to lighten up, lower your entertainment level and learn how to slum."

"But this is crap."

"Crap is as crap does, my friend—remember that."

Dick rolled his eyes and started chewing on Roy's neck, knowing it was guaranteed to make him forget about watching this crummy movie so they could continue with what they'd started in the Jacuzzi. In seconds Roy had his hands under Dick's shirt and was starting to get serious with his intent; not that Dick had any problem with that, mind you. In fact, ever since he and Roy had hooked up last year he'd discovered just how much he liked; okay, he _really_ liked sex. It felt good, no question about that, but he liked—no, he loved being that close to someone he actually loved. He'd read all these books and heard all the songs about what it was supposed to be like when you were in love but the reality—damn. He and Roy had been friends since they were like twelve, thirteen years old, but last year after Dick helped him kick the heroin—and you really get to know someone when they're barfing on you and hitting, kicking you and you're trying to help them through the shakes and the hallucinations and the rest of it—by the end of it, after Roy was finally clean, they'd both started really looking at each other and seeing what all the girls seemed to see when either of them walked down the street.

Wait, no, that wasn't what he meant, but Roy was great. He was funny and a smart ass. He was smarter than most people gave him credit for and he had these incredible green eyes that just looked right through Dick's BS to see him as just a person. No one ever did that, they all saw 'Dick Grayson, perfect ward' or they saw 'Robin, the teen wonder' or even 'the cute guy with the bod in the third row in English' or even 'that poor orphan circus kid' but no one ever saw him as just a person. Roy did and knew him as well as anyone in the world and liked him—loved him—anyway. Amazing.

He moved around to suck on Roy's throat just below the Adam's apple and loved the vibration there when Roy made this sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan, if he sucked just a little harder he'd leave a mark…God, touching him, smelling him, feeling the heat from his body—what an incredible turn on and Dick was starting to breath faster. Moving down a little, pushing Roy onto his back on the couch, he pulled up Roy's tee-shirt and started kissing his abdomen, licking, kissing, nuzzling and loving the feel of Roy's hands in his hair caressing his head and gently moving him to just where he wanted attention. Dick slid down further so that he was finally kneeling on the floor at just the right height to nip and suckle his way around Roy's stomach while one hand massaged Roy's legs and thighs and the other stroked his chest. Roy's hands left Dick's hair, causing Dick to look up. Smiling just a little, breathing deep and fast and making small sounds, Roy unbuttoned his fly, sliding his jeans and boxers down below his butt, freeing himself and making it clear what he wanted. Glancing down at the stiff cock inches from his face, Dick gave a silent laugh—they both loved this, both giving and receiving—and swallowed the full length without any prep or teasing, sucking hard all the way. He felt it hitting the back of his throat and angled his head to open his gullet enough that he could feel his nose and chin hitting the reddish pubic hair. Dick slid his mouth up and down, using his tongue to tease the head, playing with the slit, his right hand fondling and rolling Roy's balls, rubbing a finger down behind then to stroke the small piece of skin behind, his left hand found Roy's left nipple, touching it lightly but with enough firmness the feeling wouldn't be lost with the other stimulation. Both of them were too aroused to stretch this out and within a too short couple of minutes Dick felt Roy stiffen, groan, his body going into the familiar spasm and the familiar taste filled his mouth as he swallowed in time with the waves. He waited the moments until the hard cock softened in his mouth, licking it clean as he let it slip out then carefully nudged Roy to lift up enough for Dick to replace his clothing in case Alfred walked in.

Dick was sat back on the floor, off of his knees facing Roy who was still stretched flat out on the couch with his hand gently stroking Dick's cheek. "Thank you."

He smiled at Roy. "Payback later."

A satisfied smile, part leer. "Count on it." He became serious, "I love you, Dick. I know I don't say it much, but I do. I really do love you."

This was the part Dick lived for, knowing that what Roy was saying was true and that it was real. He caught Roy's hand, the one that was hanging off the edge of the couch, kissing the inner palm and holding it against his face, rubbing into it like cat will sometimes do. "I love you, too Roy. You know I do."

"Yeah, I do." The bad movie ended, ignored, on the large screen, neither one moving to stop it or turn it off as the credits rolled. "It's eleven, too early to go to bed?"

"Let's go."

"Are they still here?"

"Good evening, Master Bruce. I take it all is well?"

"Where are they?"

"I presume you're referring to the young masters? They've retired for the night."

Bruce had the cowl pushed back, but was still in full costume. The patrol had been uneventful, just a couple of minor busts which he could have left to the local cops if he'd wanted to. Dick had been on his mind the whole time and he didn't like that. The boy should have been beside him doing his job, not…Christ, not doing whatever the hell he and Roy were doing instead. It wasn't even so much that Roy was male, not really, but of all the people for Dick to hook up with Roy had to be the worst choice it was possible for him to make. It was so absurd, so plain, flat-out wrong he even wondered if the whole thing was a 'fuck you' to both him and Ollie. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more that seemed like the only possible explanation. It wasn't that he had a problem with gays—he didn't and never had but this was ridiculous.

Roy was a drug addict, for the love of God, and Dick knew the statistics about back sliding as well as anyone did. The plain facts were that, in all likelihood, Roy would be using again within a year. Even on a good day, he wasn't what anyone could call reliable or stable and he was a smart ass of the first order. He had loser written all over him and Ollie had done everything in his power to make sure the boy didn't fulfill whatever potential he may have once had. Christ. And _this_ was what Dick had decided was his current true love?

And it had been going on for how long? As soon as he'd found out, Bruce had called Ollie, who was, for once, sober. It turned out he knew even less about this affair than Bruce did. Ollie hadn't a clue, not even a small one and actually asked Bruce if he was 'pulling my leg—c'mon Batboy, you know you can't pull off a sense of humor. Leave that to the experts.' When he'd been able to convince Ollie that he wasn't kidding Ollie's reaction—"I guess boys will be boys"— had been to laugh so long and so hard Bruce finally just hung up on him.

Jackass.

Dick could do so much better than Roy. Why the hell was he doing this? "Have you spoken to him, Alfred?"

The old man was just setting out the usual sandwiches and decaf as a late snack. "Not really, no, but I do believe that the young masters are genuine in their affections towards one another. I see no duplicity or sham between them in any way." He poured the coffee, adding the exact amount of cream and sugar the master preferred. "They seem quite content together, if I may say so."

Bruce looked like he was trying to understand what Alfred was saying, even though he was speaking Martian. "Content together?"

"Yes. They seem content in one another's company. They're happy together and, if I may, it's a pleasure to see Master Dick so joyful with someone. He works far too hard for someone so young and this may well be just what he needs."

Bruce wondered if Alfred had lost his mind. Maybe he was caught up in some romantic daydream, but, for God's sake, he couldn't be serious. "Are you saying you approve of this?"

"I'm merely pointing out the obvious and whether he chooses Master Roy or a young lady, the fact is that he's happy." Alfred went on before Bruce could make some comment. "I also point out that they are both young and that this is the first serious relationship for either of them so far as I know. Teenaged romances tend to have a limited shelf life. I suggest we simply let it run it's course and it will resolve itself."

"I don't like this. He's distracted and when that happens he can get hurt."

Alfred was afraid of the same thing. "Yes, perhaps, but he's been raised both by you and before that by his parents to be professional and you know it's never been a problem. When he's in the field he's completely focused; you've commented on it yourself. I really think you're worrying needlessly, sir." In fact Alfred feared for Dick's safety as well. There was the chance that while he was leading the Titans or was out on a normal patrol, thoughts of Speedy would cause Robin to let his concentration lapse long enough for him to be injured. And in their business, injured was all too easy to become dead.

"May I make a suggestion, sir?" Bruce gave a curt nod. "I believe the lads have a school break coming up in a week or so. Perhaps if they were permitted to go off together they may, well, they might exhaust their overabundance of hormones and may find it less difficult to concentrate when they return."

Was Alfred actually suggesting they send the kids off for a fuckathon? "I don't think teenagers work that way, Alfred. I think it's more likely that they'll simply produce more…hormones and up the ante."

"Well sir, we can't ban them from seeing one another, you know as well as I that forbidden fruit is the most attractive. I do believe they'll run their course and come to a natural end sooner or later if we don't interfere." He placed the dirty dishes on a tray to take them upstairs. "I would suggest you have a talk with Master Dick, assuming you can remain calm whilst you do so." He started up the stairs. "Becoming overly excited or confrontational would be counterproductive. Good evening, sir."

Indeed.

Clearly there was no point in disturbing the boys at this hour if they'd been in bed—Jesus, doing God knew what—for three hours already. The morning would be soon enough and they'd likely be expecting to be facing the music anyway. There was no reason to put it off any longer. On impulse, he flipped a switch off to the side of the main computer console. Opening the intercom connected to Dick's room, he could hear what could only be the bed creaking rhythmically, heavy breathing and grunts of exertion which built until they were followed by drawn out groans.

Bruce was sitting at the table at seven the next morning. Dick was normally an early riser; he would know enough to come down so they could talk. At ten after he came in alone and took his usual seat, dressed in his normal weekend jeans and a new Haley's Tee shirt Pop has sent him last month. Alfred placed a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice in front of him and asked if pancakes would be all right. Dick, nodded, his mind obviously not on the menu. Alfred went back to the kitchen, the food would be ready in a few minutes and he didn't want to leave them alone too long—it wasn't that he didn't trust them alone together, but there was no use in borrowing trouble.

Bruce folded the Wall Street Journal he'd been reading and placed it carefully on the table. "Where's Roy?"

"Still asleep. I thought you'd want to do this without him here." Dick looked like he was girding for battle, and probably was.

"That was thoughtful of you, and yes, I think that's for the best. First of all, do you have anything to say?"

Dick was expecting this. "Just the obvious; we love each other and this isn't a fling or just an affair like you probably think it is. It's important to both of us and we're not going to stop seeing each other just because you and Ollie don't like it."

Bruce nodded. "I see." He sipped his coffee. "And what do you see the outcome being?"

"Between you and me or between me and Roy?"

"Both, I suppose."

"I hadn't thought that far ahead. C'mon Bruce, it's not like we're going to run away and get married or anything like that. We're seventeen years old, we're still both in high school; we're kind of locked in to what we have for now." He finished off the OJ then poured himself another glass from the pitcher. "And as for the gay thing, look, neither of us really sees ourselves as gay. Bi, maybe, but we both like girls. This thing between Roy and me isn't about—this is going to sound stupid—it isn't about gender or even sex; it's about us being together. I'd like him and I'd love him whatever his gender was." He stopped and looked at Bruce. "Does that make any sense?"

"I suppose it does to the two of you."

They heard pounding down the main staircase, despite the heavy carpeting then footsteps on the marble floor mixed with the squeaking of sneaker soles. "Hey, you promised you'd wake me up so we could eat breakfast together." And so you wouldn't have to face the Bat alone, you jerk. Roy slammed into the room before Dick could say anything. "Hey, good morning, Bruce. Sleep okay?" He stopped beside Dick, leaned down to give him a kiss full on the mouth (which seemed to stay closed this time, thank God) and sat himself in the closest chair.

"Yes, thank you, and yourself?"

"Like a baby." Bruce's sarcasm was lost on Roy. Either that or he decided to ignore it as he helped himself to the juice in front of him.

"Okay, so now you know about me and Dick. Can you live with it or not?" Roy never was one to mince words and Bruce saw that Dick was waiting for his answer as much as Roy was. In fact, he was half afraid the two of them would stare a hole through him.

Alfred, no accident, of course, chose that moment to deliver a tray full of food. "Gentlemen, pancakes, bacon and a choice of spiced apples or strawberries to go along. Now, please do my efforts justice, if you would. And, if you don't mind, I shall leave you to it and suggest you all remember that you are family." Dick and Roy exchanged a glance as he left—that wasn't as subtle as they would have expected from him.

"Bruce?"

"Alfred is concerned that I'll say something to upset you two."

Dick knew they'd been talking, probably for several hours, about what to do about the 'situation'. "What did he have in mind?"

Bruce wasn't about to be baited. "The only concerns I have are the ones you can understand. Roy, we all know you've had some problems and I don't want Dick to be drawn into them by you or by his own sense of loyalty. And Dick, I don't want to see you neglecting your responsibilities because of this. Is that all clear to both of you?"

The boys exchanged another look before Dick spoke. "Roy doesn't bring me down because he had a problem—which he's beaten. If anything, he, Roy—he's, he makes it possible for me to keep doing everything." Dick stared a challenge at Bruce. "We're together and it's going to stay that way for a while at least. If you have a problem with it, we'll move to the Tower so you don't have to deal with us directly."

Oddly, Bruce seemed to suddenly lose interest in the conversation. "There's no need for that. You're both welcomed here and if you wish to set up a room together, I have no objections." Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a JLA meeting to get ready for." With no other comment, he simply got up and left the boys alone with their breakfasts.

Roy was confused. If this had been a talk with Ollie, he'd still be screaming insults and possibly throwing dishes. "Dick? What just happened here?"

"Bruce just decided that it's not worth discussing because it—we'll—run our course and break up on our own sooner or later. I'd guess he's betting on sooner. That's what happened."

Roy didn't know Bruce as well as Dick did. "So that's it? He'll leave us alone now, no hassles?"

Dick nodded and cut off a piece from his stack of pancakes. "He's off our backs for now. C'mon, eat, we have plans."

Roy smiled, relieved—that was easier than he'd thought and if the Bat was okay with this for now, Ollie could take a flying leap. Bruce even said they could live together right upstairs—how cool was that?

Dick knew Bruce well enough to know that all that happened was they'd been granted a few months. Things would be fine for a while but as soon as the Bat realized that this was a long-term thing and not just a bedroom affair, well, then they'd have to talk again. Count on it.

6/10/06

9


End file.
